Oh Cowboy, Ride the Tide
by SyrupylikeBreakfastinMontag
Summary: Arthur is heir to the Pendragon law firm. When an angry client comes in with the intent to shoot Arthur, Merlin saves the day and is rewarded with the position of being Arthur's personal assistant. However, will these two remain just boss and employee for long, or will their constant bickering evolve into something more? Arthur/Merlin Merlin/Arthur contains slash. AU.


Oh, Cowboy Ride the Tide

*Author's note: So this story is an AU, and it's going to be a multi-chapter story. I'm not quite sure exactly how long it's going to be yet. Even though this is an AU, Merlin is still going to have magic. I think keeping that secret and having a great ability but not being able to show it off is just too much of his character to get rid of. The title comes from the song "Dark Undercoat" by Emily Jane White, but this is by no means a song-fic, nor is it really related to that song in any way. I just liked that lyric. Anyways, enjoy!*

"I'm sorry, sir, I just don't think you have enough of a case here for us to take you on as a client. Your injuries from the accident were mild, and most of them have already healed. You wouldn't be entitled to much money at all from this case." Arthur Pendragon said brusquely, shuffling the papers into a neater stack in his hand and passing them back to the man he had been interviewing as a potential client. At some point in the future, Arthur would inherit the law firm Pendragon and Associates, but for now he was just an associate, not but two years out of law school. The man sitting across from Arthur frowned, reluctantly taking back his medical reports. Pendragon and Associates was a firm that handled personal injury cases, meaning that if someone got injured in a car crash or had a giant anvil fall from the sky and land on their head, Pendragon and Associates would make sure the insurance company paid up; for a fee, of course. Hazel eyes narrowed, giving Arthur a calculating look, then the man gritted his teeth and nodded at Arthur.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said gruffly. Arthur tried to look sad for the man, but he just managed to look slightly ill. So many people came in here just looking for a quick way to make some money. For every person who was actually suffering and in need of help there were three others nursing slight bruises and ranting as though they had lost limbs.

"I'm sorry as well," said Arthur dutifully. "If you would just head out into the lobby, our secretary Elena will talk you through signing some papers stating that we will not be taking your case." Arthur proffered his hand to shake the man's, but the man just clenched his jaw and strode out of Arthur's office. Arthur sighed. Some people were just so ungrateful.

Arthur leaned back in his chair, running a tan hand through his meticulously combed blond hair. Then he stood, following the man out into the office's main room. At one point, the Pendragon law firm had only occupied one room of its current building, and it had just been Arthur's father Uther and his ancient assistant Gaius working here. Then, gradually over the years, Uther had built up his business until now the firm had taken over the entire 12th floor of their building. Uther was a proud man. He had every right to be.

Arthur walked over to one of the impressive L-shaped desks lining the room, pressing his palms flat against its dark, walnut surface and leaning casually over it.

"Hey, Arthur," greeted the desk's occupant: a tan, dark haired man with friendly brown eyes and a fashionable amount of black stubble coating his chiseled jaw.

"Lance, why do we keep getting such idiots coming in here complaining about slight boo-boos?" whined Arthur, feeling exasperated and mildly grumpy. This had been his second intake interview this morning that had turned out to be a dud. Lancelot shrugged, looking up from the letter he had been typing.

"Because we're a P.I. firm. It's our job to listen to people with slight boo-boos. Just be glad you aren't a divorce lawyer. If you think this complaining is bad, just imagine what it's like to have to listen to arguing couples all day who just want to rip each other's throats out." Arthur smiled.

"Yeah, I do suppose that kind of thing could get messy. Imagine the carpet cleaning bills to get all that blood out." Lancelot chuckled, turning back to his computer to type up one last line of text before clicking the print button. The printer whirred as the first page of the letter was sucked up and scanned through, then the printer made several loud clunking noises and stopped abruptly. A small pop-up window flickered into existence on the corner of Lancelot's screen, declaring that the printer was out of paper.

"Hey, do you mind grabbing me some more printer paper from that drawer down there," asked Lancelot, gesturing to one of the cabinets behind Arthur.

"I'm your boss," quipped Arthur. "Shouldn't you be getting me paper?" Lancelot smirked, raising a dark brow at Arthur.

"Actually your father is my boss. You won't be my boss until he retires, at which point I will happily get my own paper. Until then, favors go both ways." Arthur laughed.

"Fair enough," he said, turning to go get the paper only to crash into something very solid that yelped "fuck" and flew over backwards. A young man who appeared to be couple of years younger than Arthur lay on the floor, coffee from a cup that he had been holding spreading over his pale blue t-shirt, staining the soft material. The boy had an unruly mass of brown hair, sharp cheekbones, and incredibly blue eyes that were currently glaring daggers up at Arthur. The young man sat up, rubbing the back of his head and wincing at the small bump he felt growing there before grimacing down at his ruined clothing.

"You know usually you're supposed to help someone up after you've knocked them over instead of just staring at them," the boy drawled, raising an irritated eyebrow up at Arthur who belatedly realized that he had indeed been staring.

"Actually, I think you're the one who ran into me," snapped Arthur, bristling to cover his embarrassment.

"Well aren't you an ass," commented the boy casually, forcing a smile as he got to his feet, brushing pointlessly at the coffee seeping slowly down his front before bending down to pick up a small paper bag Arthur hadn't noticed before.

"Here," said Lancelot, leaning uncomfortably over his desk to hand Merlin a clump of tissues.

"Thanks," replied the boy, smiling surprisingly warmly at Lancelot for someone as pissed as he had to be. Arthur noticed absently that the young man's cheeks dimpled when he smiled.

"Is Gaius in his office, Lance?" asked the boy, and Arthur started, looking back and forth between Lancelot and the boy in surprise. This young man knew Lancelot? How? Lancelot nodded.

"Yeah, he is. Head right on in."

"Thanks," replied the boy, smiling once more before brushing past Arthur without so much as a second glance.

"Who the hell was that?' demanded Arthur, rounding on Lancelot. "And how the hell does he know you?"

"That was Gaius' nephew Merlin," said Lancelot, sitting back down and leaning back in his chair, crossing his arms casually behind his head. "He brings Gaius lunch sometimes."

"Really?" asked Arthur, his eyebrows furrowing together in confusion. "How have I not seen him around before then?" Lancelot smirked, amused.

"You aren't exactly the most observant person ever, Arthur," he teased, and Arthur had to keep himself from saying that he thought he'd notice someone who looked like that. "Besides," continued Lancelot, "he tends to come when you're out on your lunch break."

"Huh," grunted Arthur intelligently, pursing his lips slightly. "He seems like a twit. You'd think people would watch where they're going." Lancelot raised a skeptical eyebrow.

"Yeah, you'd think so…" he commented dryly. Arthur flushed.

"Remind me to dock your pay when I take over…" grumbled Arthur darkly. Lancelot chuckled. "Besides," he continued, "I don't care what you say, I still think that boy's a-"

"-complete and utter prat!" exclaimed Merlin, pacing Gaius' office furiously. He had thrown Gaius' lunch on the older man's desk the second he walked in, and now he was dabbing furiously at his ruined shirt with the wad of tissues Lancelot had given him earlier. It was doing absolutely nothing but leaving little clumps of white on top of the coffee, though, as bits of the tissue flaked off under Merlin's vicious scrubbing.

"He didn't even say sorry!" continued Merlin, rounding on Gaius in search of sympathy.

"Well," said Gaius diplomatically, "he is heir to this company. I think he's used to being the one who's shown respect."

"That doesn't mean he's allowed to just be a complete prick to everyone else!" protested Merlin. "So he was born to a well off family! So what? That takes luck not skill. He's no better than any of the rest of us!" Gaius nodded.

"That's true. All men are created equal, but Arthur is a good boy. Your way of meeting him was… unfortunate, but really he isn't so bad."

"You're just saying that because he's your boss' kid…" grumbled Merlin sulkily.

"Come now, Merlin," scolded Gaius gently. "Give the boy a chance. He's really not so bad. I'm sure you'd like him if you got to know him better."

"Fat chance," scoffed Merlin. "Well, now that you've got your lunch I'd better get going."

"So soon?" asked Gaius, surprised. Usually Merlin would stay and sit with him for lunch if he'd already come all this way.

"Yeah," said Merlin dejectedly. "I need to change into a fresh shirt. I think this spilled coffee is actually managing to burn me and freeze me all at once." Gaius nodded.

"Well thank you for bringing me my lunch then," he said fondly, smiling up at Merlin as the young man finally gave up on cleaning his shirt and threw the wad of soiled tissues into Gaius' trashcan.

"Of course," said Merlin, returning Gaius' grin. "See you later, uncle." Merlin tugged at the corners of his jacket, trying to cover up as much of the coffee stain as possible, then strode from the room.

"Now then, weren't you going to get me some paper?" commented Lancelot, eager to change the subject away from complaining about Merlin. He liked Merlin. Merlin had always been nice to him. He was a good kid.

"I don't know," replied Arthur with a grin. "So far that hasn't gone so well for me. Maybe you should get it yourself."

"It is right behind you," said Lancelot pragmatically.

"And what? You're glued to your chair?"

"And what if I was?" Lancelot grinned.

"Lazy butt," commented Arthur, turning to try for a second time to get Lancelot his printer paper.

"You're one to talk," Lancelot began to say, but he was cut off by a loud crash and a scream that sounded like it came from Elena in the lobby. Arthur and Lancelot glanced at each other for a second, eyes wide, then they took off, running at top speed towards the front desk. Arthur burst through into the lobby ahead of Lancelot, after all, he didn't have a desk to dodge around, and froze. It's funny how a gun pointed at your face will do that to a person. Elena was cowering behind her desk, arms curled protectively over her head, her pale frame shaking with terrified sobs. Papers that had been knocked off the front desk fluttered gently to the floor, their slow, calm motions in stark contrast with the pure fury of the man standing in the middle of the room. It was the man whose case Arthur had just denied. He stood, one fist clenched at his side, the other holding a small handgun, pointing it straight at Arthur. He was trembling with rage, and something Arthur couldn't quite place. Desperation maybe, or sadness.

"You pompous ass," growled the man through clenched teeth. "You arrogant little prick. You dare tell me that my pain and suffering doesn't matter! That my misery isn't WORTH ANYTHING!" The man was yelling now, flecks of spittle spewing out of his lips and catching in the gingery hair of his beard. Arthur raised his hands slowly, palms out in a calming gesture, trying to placate this furious man.

"You're right," he said quickly. "That was wrong of me. I shouldn't have dismissed your pain like that."

"You're just saying that because I have a gun pointed at your stupid, little head," growled the man, his upper lip curling in disgust. "You sit up here in your fancy little office, with your pretty little secretary and your gobs of money, thinking you're so much better than the rest of us just because you were lucky enough to be born into a rich family. Well you're no better! You're just an arrogant little worm and it's time someone knocked you down a peg!"

"You're absolutely right," agreed Arthur soothingly, quashing his instinct to protest that his head wasn't little, but in fact was perfectly in proportion with the rest of his body. "This is all my fault. So why don't you just let Elena go. She's not rich or anything. She works hard for everything she's ever earned just like you. Your problem is with me, not her." For an instant, the man looked conflicted, his gun wavering and lowering slightly as he glanced almost guiltily in Elena's direction. Elena let out a high-pitched squeak of terror, staring up at the gun with dread-filled brown eyes. Then the man's resolve returned and he pointed his gun at Arthur with renewed determination.

"Now you're trying to manipulate me, you rich pig!" the man screamed, his eyes bugging out of his head in fury. "You think just because you have money that you can control everyone around you! Well I'll show you, Mr. Pendragon!" The man's finger tightened on the trigger, and in that instant something collided full force into Arthur's back, knocking Arthur to the ground. As Arthur fell he heard a bang, heard Elena scream, but he felt no pain, no shock of a bullet striking his body. All he felt was the dull thud of the carpeted floor striking his face and an uncomfortable weight on his back. An instant later there was a loud crash and a masculine cry of pain. When Arthur finally managed to roll over to see what was going on, he saw that the elaborate chandelier that usually hung proudly in the middle of the lobby had fallen, striking the gunman on the head and effectively knocking him out. Lucky. Very lucky. Almost too lucky.

Lancelot ran over to the gunman, kicking the gun away from the fallen man's limp fingers just in case he regained consciousness.

"Arthur, are you ok?" he called nervously, glancing over at where Arthur lay. "Merlin! Oh gods, Merlin!" It took Arthur a moment to understand Lancelot's last outburst. It wasn't until the weight on his back shifted and groaned that it clicked into place in Arthur's head. Merlin: Merlin had saved his life. Arthur felt Merlin roll off of him and sit up, allowing Arthur to sit upright as well. It wasn't until then that Arthur realized Merlin was bleeding. Merlin's jacket sleeve was torn, cut in a perfectly straight line, and blood was seeping slowly from the opening, horribly bright and red as it dropped down onto the office's white carpet. Arthur had a horrible flashback to his comment about carpet cleaning bills and felt sick.

"Are you ok?" he asked hurriedly, grabbing Merlin's arm and carefully peeling back the fabric of Merlin's jacket sleeve where it was torn, exposing a long, thin cut along Merlin's wan bicep.

"I think so," said Merlin, forcing a thin smile as he too peered down to examine his injury. "It looks like the bullet just grazed me. I should be fine once I've bandaged it up."

"Lancelot," Arthur commanded, pulling himself together. Suddenly he was in control again. Someday this was going to be his firm and he would have to be able to handle crises like this. "Go get the first aid kit from underneath the sink. Elena, call the police. Tell them there's been a shooting and to hurry down before the shooter regains consciousness."

Lancelot nodded, running out of the room towards the kitchen and Elena took a deep breath, dragging herself up off the floor and over to the phone. Suddenly the front door to the office banged open, making Elena shriek and sink back to the floor. Standing in the door, breathing heavily, eyes wide with fear was Uther Pendragon, Arthur's father.

"Arthur!" Uther gasped, taking in the sight of the man unconscious under the chandelier, the gun lying on the floor, and the two boys lying in a heap surrounded by a growing puddle of blood. "Security told me there'd been a 911 call made from this office. What happened?" He ran forward, grabbing his son's shoulders in a fiercely tight grip, searching him over for any wounds.

"I called 911," said Gaius, emerging from the back room and hurrying over to Elena, helping the crying girl to her feet and patting her back soothingly. "Don't worry, dear. I took care of it. You can just rest now."

"One of the potential clients," explained Arthur. "He just went crazy, started waving a gun around. He tried to shoot me. He would have too if Gaius' nephew Merlin hadn't knocked me aside. Merlin's been shot, but it looks like the bullet just grazed his arm." Uther's intense green gaze turned on Merlin, taking in the cut on the boy's arm and his slightly pained expression.

"You saved my son's life," he breathed. "You will be repaid for this service, I promise you." Merlin blushed.

"There's no need, really," he muttered. "Anyone else would have done it too, I'm sure."

"Nonsense," Uther insisted, waving away Merlin's polite protests. "I only have one son. No price is too high for his life. How would you like a job here, with good wages of course." Merlin's face lit up. He really could use the money. He had gotten into a nice private college up North, but it had not been cheap and his family was not exactly rolling in dough. It would certainly be nice to not have the weight of his school loans over his head anymore.

Uther saw Merlin's expression and took it as consent without actually waiting for any verbal response. He was not a man used to being told no.

"It's settled then," he declared, patting Merlin hard on his uninjured shoulder. "You will be Arthur's personal assistant then." Both Merlin's and Arthur's faces fell. Before they could protest, however, Lancelot came running back into the room.

"I've got the first aid kit," he announced, kneeling down beside Uther in front of Merlin and Arthur and handing the bright red tool box over to Arthur.

"Thanks," said Arthur, taking the box. "Oh, and Lancelot?"

"Yeah?" replied Lancelot quickly, expecting another crisis-related order.

"Get your own damn printer paper."

*Author's note: Well there's the first chapter done! I hope you guys like it and will stay tuned to see what happens next. I wanted to try to have their relationship evolve in a similar way as on the show so that even though this is an AU their relationship dynamic stays as similar as possible (hence Merlin saving Arthur from being killed). Please review with any feedback. Also, if any of you have requests for something to happen in this story, just let me know. I have a pretty good idea of what's going to happen plot-wise, but at this point it is flexible. Also, in later chapters there will be mature content, so be warned. Thanks for reading! :)*


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